Dear Saturday

Saturday is the absolute best day of the week hands down. I can stay up really late Friday night, knowing that I can sleep in till noon if I wish (which is exactly what I just did… <contentment>), then mosey around the whole day. It’s fun to plan things to do – like watch Johnny Depp DVDs, write a story, edit photographs – and then do or not do them as I wish.

I am feeling pleased today because I am happy with my hair. It didn’t really turn out purple, but is black-burgundy with deep purple undertones, much darker than the previous copper colour, and I fancy it looks and feels much healthier. My hairdresser, Tina, also trimmed it a good bit, giving me a cheekbone-length fringe that I can sweep to the side. The rest remains long and wavy, and has forgiven me for neglecting it for the past six months.

I’m already planning ahead to the next cut, and think I will go purpler and shorter. Every time after I get my hair done, I pledge to become more regular with my appointments, but it hasn’t happened so far.

Besides my hair, I also caved in and got a foot spa and quick pedicure done. To my horror, I discovered that the toenail on my left little toe was falling out. That nail has been something of an anomaly all my life, being small and stunted in comparison to my other nails, which are long and smooth. I suppose it’s a good reminder to not get too smug and pleased with myself. I cut off the loose portion and found that it was growing out underneath anyway. I hadn’t even realized it had gotten loose. Thank goodness it was painless. Six or seven years ago, I got my left foot caught in a door, which partially pried off the second and third toenails and hurt like bloody hell. Nails are unequivocally scary things. I remember going into hysterical giggles during the hand surgery posting in university, when I had to observe a multiple nail avulsion procedure being performed on a labourer who’d had an accident. I’m normally quite stoic and have no problems with blood, but nails get me every time.

The rest of the nails have been painted a nude, shiny colour, and I will still be able to wear open-toe sandals without problem. No one really looks at little toes anyway.

Welcome to my blog!

My blog-name is Katie but I will not respond if you call me that in real life because it's not my real name. Yes, I do practise virtual-world paranoia. No, I do not enjoy stalkers. But I do enjoy writing and having folks reading said writing, so welcome to my world. It's nice to meet you.

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Disclaimers:
1) I cannot help but bitch about work sometimes, but everything here comes under the realm of personal remarks, and nothing here is said in my professional capacity. Nor does anything here reflect the opinion of the institutions that employ me. This is just me shooting off.
2) Most identities have been anonymized, particularly those of folks I know on a personal basis. Same goes for my workplaces. However, commercial and public places and figures remain named. Otherwise some things just wouldn't make sense.
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